On Friday, I pushed myself to finish a project for work that was due at the end of December. I didn’t want it to be more than a week late. The project involved documentation and required a lot of mental focus involving writing, editing, organization, and digital publishing work with desktop and server software. There were multiple steps in saving files, backing them up, writing comments about the backups, and then doing it again if I missed crucial information in the project files that needed to go through the saving process again.
I’m known for accomplishing a lot of work in a short amount of time. In my mind, there is too much to do, so efficiency is key. I’ve delegated work in the past, and it was my intention to delegate some of this documenting work, but it couldn’t happen this time for reasons beyond my control. Plus, there were errors in the project made by someone else to whom this work was delegated that only I could fix.
I’m happy to say that the work was completed Friday, albeit after hours. But the next day, I could have been a zombie. I accompanied Mike on a shopping trip and had Penny with me. While Mike chose items for the cart, I could only look at things, unable to make decisions. My executive function was lost. I relied on Penny to help me move. (Normally, I say, “pull,” and she pulls on her leash to help me move on. Saturday I tried to teach her a new command to follow Mike in case he disappeared from sight. It seemed like a worthy attempt at the time, but it wasn’t really an opportunity to teach my dog something new.) My state of mind needed rest, but I wanted to get out. How can anyone live this way? I’m not sure I would have been able to shop from home either. I had tried in the past to order groceries online while mentally exhausted only to have incompatible items that resulted in unsavory meals. The fallback spaghetti and salad would have been better. Mentally ill people should always have a backup meal ready. For me, it’s pasta and salad or Amy’s frozen pizza. Currently, I have neither. But there are leftovers.
A day after being a zombie, I worked on a motorcycle project. Two days later, I think I’m able to go to the store and pick up items to make pesto, and then make it. There have been days when doing this would have been a frustrating challenge. At least, it seems I am making progress. It used to be that I would spend the entire weekend like a zombie, unable to work on hobbies that needed decision-making power. I am grateful to have a full weekend.